


Hi, I like you.

by tinyyy



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:12:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1525919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyyy/pseuds/tinyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jinki fell in love with his best friend, he bought a humongous one whole illustration board. Then Taemin laughed at him through his window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hi, I like you.

**Author's Note:**

> ohmygod this was written in 2012 goodness gracious i'm crying 
> 
> also posted on [livejournal](http://quite-poetic.livejournal.com/4895.html#cutid1).

“How can you tell someone that you like them?” Jinki blurts out all of a sudden, and it makes his eyes widen as he realizes the words he just told Taemin. He hopes that his dongsaeng didn’t hear what he said through the movie they’re currently watching, crossing his fingers at his side.  
  
Taemin gives him a weird look, his eyes narrowed, his mouth readily opened for the buttered popcorn he scooped out of the bowl. “Why?” he asks, displaying a mischievous smile.  
  
The way Jinki shakes his head is so furious that it messes up the mop of light brown on his head. “Nothing in particular.” He tries to shrug it off nonchalantly, as his hand is busy grabbing at air inside the bowl, failing at least three times before actually getting a handful of popcorn.  
  
The bowl is shoved at Jinki as Taemin scoots closer, invading Jinki’s personal space. “Hyung, who is it?” Taemin elbows him in the ribs, curiosity painting his face. “Come on, tell me.”  
  
Jinki closes his eyes in frustration, feels electricity coursing through him, and _damn it, they have a spark, oh god_. “I don’t like anyone, okay.” He replies once his eyes are open and is staring at him convincingly.  
  
“Sure, you don’t.” He nods his head as he deadpans. Taemin exhales as he repositions himself on the couch, comfortably almost occupying the whole area when he flops down on his back.  
  
“Do I look like a footrest to you?” He complains before shoving Taemin’s legs off of his lap, even though each attempt becomes futile as the younger boy brings it back on top of his thighs every time.  
  
With crossed arms over his chest, his lips pucker into a pout. “This is for not telling me.”  
  
A sound of endearment is stuck at the back of his throat and Jinki tries his hardest to let it stay there because he doesn’t want Taemin to know how infuriatingly adorable he is. “You brat.” He chomps down a mouthful of popcorn, preventing himself from saying stupid things again.  
  
Taemin reaches out his arm, releasing a grunt as he feels his muscles stretch. “Hand me the popcorn.” He commands, eyes hazily staring at the television.  
  
Jinki gives him an exasperated sigh, and throws kernels at him.  
  
  
  
  
“I wanted to melt into a puddle of goo, I swear.” Jinki rants on, arms resting on the surface of the counter and head hanging low in embarrassment as he recaps the dreadful event.  
  
As Jonghyun plays with the cash register’s buttons, he nods sympathetically at the head of chestnut in front of him. “Isn’t Taemin gay?” he asks obnoxiously, remembering that Taemin is that lanky dude whose skin is more flawless than a girl’s, who is always a sporting a messy ponytail with his long straight hair, and who buys banana milk ever so often, then talks in a smooth, angelic voice when he’s telling Jonghyun that he doesn’t need a plastic bag with his one item purchase.  
  
Jinki gawks at him, at loss for coherent words because Taemin isn’t gay, no, he absolutely isn’t but it would be fantastic if he is just gay for Jinki but no, he’s not gay. “He isn’t, oh god, Jonghyun where did that come from?” he sputters, forehead creasing from his scrunched eyebrows.  
  
The bell chimes, signaling that a costumer has entered the convenience store. Jonghyun nods politely at the high school boy, and nudges Jinki’s arm at the counter. “Are you gonna buy something?”  
  
With a blank face, Jinki shakes his head negative. “No.” He says before pursing his lips into a thin smile. “Jonghyun, I am at crisis.” Jinki wails in despair, only to find Jonghyun’s eyes are glued to the young boy in uniform in that weird and stalker-ish way of looking at someone. “Will you please stop checking him out?”  
  
The gaze of brown eyes lands on Jinki, piercing a hole through him. “Are you gonna buy something?” he repeats the question, obviously prying off the older boy.  
  
Jinki groans. “Fine, I shall give you space to flirt with him.” He declares before inching away from the cashier.  
  
A fake gasp is Jonghyun’s reply. “I do not flirt with costumers.” He whispers, pointing an accusing finger at Jinki’s retreating back. Then he quickly replaces the disbelief on his face with a cheery smile when the student goes over to pay for his items.  
  
  
  
  
Color coded Monopoly bills scatter on the carpeted floor as Taemin blows the pieces of paper away with his laugh.  
  
Jinki is staring at him blankly, thinking if he said something that made the younger boy go berserk. He begins to the question the sanity of the hysterical boy sprawled on the floor.  
  
He wheezes for breath in a rather unattractive way then rests on his stomach properly, elbows supporting half of his weight. Pursed lips are trying their hardest not to continue laughing as Taemin proceeds with the game and jumbles the two dices. “He really asked if I was gay?” he says casually as he moves a metal thimble six places.  
  
“He really did!” Jinki exclaims eagerly, eyes convincingly wide. “And I just told him that you weren’t – I mean, you aren’t, right?” he questions and feels anticipation bubbling inside his stomach, so he straightens his back and re-arranges his crossed legs. But nope, his stomach’s still going through a rollercoaster ride.  
  
Taemin eyes him with some kind of glint in his eyes that makes Jinki feel more uncomfortable and anxious. “Why don’t we try to find out?” he says in a playful voice, as he goes over to Jinki, lacing his arms around the older boy’s neck.  
  
Jinki gulps, and finds the right words to say, but his brain couldn’t function properly and _what the hell is he supposed to do when his best friend who he’s crushing on suddenly advances on him and this is definitely Jonghyun’s fault, yup, it’s all his fault–_  
  
“Breathe, Jinki-hyung. Breathe.” Taemin snaps him out of it.  
  
He realizes that he was actually holding his breath the whole time and inhales in a decent amount of oxygen as he realizes that Taemin smells so syrupy sweet and delicious and scrumptiously tempting and just like a field of flowers and a steaming cup of mocha.  
  
A chuckle comes out of Taemin’s lips and he pulls away laughing. The ponytailed boy lies down on the board game as he releases small, choppy chuckles.  
  
Jinki blinks a few times as he regains composure. “Hey, you’re messing up the game.” He wails as he puts on his sad face that actually comes off as adorably squishy rather than sad.  
  
Taemin exhales and flails his arms, knocking down and scrambling cards, houses, and metal trinkets. “Ah, whatever. I win.” He breathes out, resting his head on his arms.  
  
Jinki doesn’t know if the boy actually made a move on him, took advantage of him, or both, or neither.  
  
  
  
  
“He just grabbed me, and then he went hysterical on top of the board game. Then he won.” Jinki tells him inside the empty convenience store, comfortably sitting at a small stool with a can of coffee in his hand.  
  
“I don’t like Monopoly. I always end up with bankruptcy.” Jonghyun says randomly, with his legs crossed as he sits on top of the counter, not helping at all. “Hey, you think blonde would look good on me?” he asks, ruffling the back of his head as he pouts his lips while eyeing himself at the glass wall of the store.  
  
“Why do I even bother talking to you?” He shakes the can vigorously before opening it, frustration taking over him.  
  
Jonghyun shrugs as he tidies up his bangs. “Can you ask Taemin if he knows someone by the name of Kim Kibum? I think they go to the same school.”  
  
With a quick gulp of mocha coffee, he spins the stool around and rests his head on the squeaky clean tabletop. He groans miserably.  
  
  
  
  
On days when Taemin has to attend his dance workshop, Jinki’s hobby is to drown himself in the heat while flopping down on his bed as he waits for sleep to let his eyelids drop. He feels quite stuffy as heat waves from the burning sun seep through his opened window and occupy most of his room, but Jinki still manages to doze off.  
  
He grumbles when his obnoxious message alert wakes him up. Still half-asleep, he grabs his phone and reads the new message with sleepy, hooded eyes.

 

> Hyung!! 1 whole illustration board~!!
> 
> _From: Taeminnie 3:49PM_

 

Jinki reads the text from Taemin, then he just blinks at it. His fingertips formulate a proper reply after a minute.

 

> …what?
> 
> _Sent: 3:52PM_

 

> You need 1 whole illustration board to tell someone that you like them~
> 
> _From: Taeminnie 3:53PM_

 

> i dont get it D:
> 
> _Sent: 3:53PM_

 

> . . . UGGGHHH -_________-
> 
> _From: Taeminnie 3:56PM_

 

> :(
> 
> _Sent: 3:57PM_

  
Jinki doesn’t receive a reply to his sad face, but darn it, he doesn’t get it. At all. Then he muses over all the possible ways of how Taemin would say, whine, groan, moan ‘UGGGHHH’ – Jinki blushes bright red.  
  
  
  
  
Jonghyun gives him a weird stare as soon as he rushes over to the counter with his item. “And you’re buying this, why?” he asks through furrowed eyebrows, curious eyes, and a scrunched, confused face.  
  
Jinki replies with a heavy exhale. “Taemin.” He says exasperatedly then purses his lips into a thin smile.  
  
The cash register opens and Jinki hands him bills, before fumbling with the large chunk of illustration board he has purchased. Jonghyun blinks, then he asks, “What does Taemin need that for anyway?” eyebrows still knitted together.  
  
When Jinki finally manages to carry it properly in one arm, he answers with a flush of pink staining his cheeks. “He told me that ‘one way to tell a person you like them is to hugely write it on a one whole illustration board’ and oh my god, Jonghyun, I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.” He wails.  
  
Jonghyun proceeds to blink at him some more. “And you believed him. Jinki, I don’t know what to do with you.”  
  
“It’s love.”  
  
“It’s stupid.”  
  
Jonghyun receives hard hits from the illustration board and repeating mumbles of “You’re stupid”, “Kim Kibum”, and “Why are you my friend”.  
  
  
  
  
For the first time ever in his entire existence, Jinki hates his handwriting. He stares at it, and continues staring at it for hours as if he has the power to erase the writing with his gaze.  
  
It’s a few minutes past three in the afternoon, and Taemin’s probably dancing like a demon at his workshop as Jinki re-reads the short phrase that’s written with red ink. Jinki doesn’t stop reading it, it’s like a mantra running around his head now, and looks for something wrong – maybe the punctuation or the spelling, or the measured spaces. He can’t find anything wrong.  
  
 _Hi, I like you._  
  
Jinki blankly stares at the obnoxious red letters and feels his stomach lurching into a roller coaster ride as his heart does backflips on fast forward. Jinki asks himself why _everything seems so wrong._  
  
  
  
  
“So, hyung, when are you planning you confess?” Taemin’s voice is muffled through the static.  
  
Jinki gulps and presses the phone closer to his ear. “Tomorrow?”  
  
There’s a pause, and Taemin says a quiet “oh”.  
  
“Please come with me.” Jinki says and he feels like he’s reading to throw up all his internal organs.  
  
Taemin snorts and Jinki isn’t sure if he’s hearing right anymore. “While you’re confessing your love to that someone whose name you won’t tell me?” Taemin asks.  
  
After a roll on his bed, Jinki sighs. “Please? I need moral support.” He bluffs and clears his throat. His hand found its way to his hair and frustratingly messes up the strands on his head.  
  
A gust of wind was heard from the Taemin’s line and then the boy finally agreed.  
  
Jinki accidentally rolled out of his bed.  
  
  
  
  
“I AM DYIIINNGG INSSIIDDEE.”  
  
Jonghyun nods at the lump of chestnut hair on the counter, laid down in front of him. “Congratulations.”  
  
  
  
  
Jinki feels his sweat trickling down his neck as he steadily holds the humongous illustration board with this shaky and damaged hands – because apparently, his palms were slightly scratched from the rough and sharp edges of the rocks he threw at Taemin’s window, feeling like Romeo and all – and he can feel the heat of the afternoon sun on the back of neck but that’s not the only reason he’s secreting liters of sweat.  
  
He really wants to take a peek at Taemin’s expression, because he wonders how the boy will react to the obnoxious, red, huge ‘Hi, I like you’ he has written, but he just covers his face since he probably looks a tomato from the way his cheeks are burning and he just wants to melt into the soil of the lawn and fertilize the grass and it’ll be like little mermaid turning into moss and Taemin will probably find someone better and—  
  
There’s a chuckle, and it’s certainly Taemin’s.  
  
If Jinki’s heart could pound right out of his chest and explode, it surely would. A thousand thoughts are running through his mind and screaming at him with nervousness and panic.  
  
“Hyung, it’s upside down.” Taemin shouts.  
  
Jinki wants to swallow the illustration board and choke himself to death.  
  
  
  
  
After Taemin forces a complaining Jinki to come along with him to his bedroom, he shoves the irritatingly large illustration board under his bed and shoves Jinki onto a bean bag.  
  
He feels his eyes enlarging as he asks “What do you want, Taemin, oh my god.”  
  
“Your sperm.” Taemin replies nonchalantly and stares down at Jinki with his arms crossed.  
  
Jinki makes a weird, strangled noise at the back of his throat and mutters incoherencies with some strange hand motions to match.  
  
Then Taemin chuckles heartily and flops down next to the chestnut haired boy. “I was kidding, hyung.” He says through a smile and nudges Jinki with an elbow. “You didn’t have to go all the way and write it on an illustration board though.”  
  
There’s a feeling of frustration swirling inside Jinki and he manages to utter a sentence within the mess he is on the inside. “But you said–“  
  
Taemin kisses Jinki.  
  
Jinki melts into the kiss and closes his eyes as he shuts off the world and feels non-existent fireworks everywhere as the contents of his stomach fizzes up while his heart is about to jump out of his chest and Taemin tastes so scrumptious, sweet, heavenly and—  
  
Taemin pulls away and grins.  
  
Jinki blinks, then says “Please stop acting so cliché.”  
  
“Let me have your sperm.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Or we can just cuddle?”  
  
“Cuddling is good.” Jinki replies through a grin and holds Taemin’s hand – because he wants to keep himself grounded since oh my god he feels like flying.  
  
Taemin entwines their fingers together and holds tighter, and Jinki thinks that it’s the loudest “I like you too” he has ever heard.


End file.
